Walker and I are in Florida. Right up until the plane took off, I wasn't sure I should go. I kept thinking about my family, especially my brother, and I would think there was no way I could just leave town. Then I would look at Walker, knowing how much he needed this time away. I could not let him down. In the end, I decided I had to trust in my brother and his doctors. I wish I had stronger faith in God. I envy people who find relief in prayer. I try, but I can't release my worries. I haven't learned to "let go and let God."
So we came to the beach. I sat in the sun and sank my toes in the sand. I watched the dolphins play just offshore. It helps, some. I know I need to let go of the guilt I carry but I don't know how. When we get home I plan to call my brother's social worker to see if they have some sort of support group for family members. Hopefully, she'll be able to hook me up.
Right now, it's just a day at a time. We call home every day. The rest of the time we walk on the beach, or shop, or hang out in a tiki bar listening to music. From our room, we have a view of the Gulf. We fall asleep listening to the surf. Walker has spent some time on the golf course. While he plays, I'm content to sit on the patio with a good book. I do love the beach. The ocean air is healing for me. I sleep like a rock here. I needed that.
I'm not feeling great about being here, but I don't think I'd have felt any better had I chosen to stay home. One of these days maybe I'll find one of those crystal balls somewhere, and I won't have these choices to make.